Night on the Snowbourne
by 1r2rta
Summary: Eowyn leaves Edoras one night to escape, and Aragorn comes across her on the banks of the Snowbourne. Pre-FOTR.


Eowyn dismounted her horse, feeling her long skirts flutter around her legs as she did so. _Cursed skirts,_ she thought. _No point in being proper if it makes you useless to move around._

The scene in the great hall of Edoras had been too much for her to handle. After a certain point, listening to old men talk of older stories grew wearisome; she could only eat so many courses before thinking of how many animals had been butchered for the enjoyment of these piggish men, and being the only woman in the room made her almost a course herself. Leers and lecherous remarks had been part of her life since she first gained the features of a woman, but that did not mean she had to put up with them for longer than necessary.

As always, a quick ride on her white gelding Simbelmyne put all of those unpleasant things out of her head. She had ridden far enough across the plains that Edoras was but a smudge on the horizon, and it was here that she chose to dismount. The cool breeze swung the grasses back and forth, and she closed her eyes, taking in the rustles and smells of the open plains.

She could hear what sounded like hoofbeats far away—galloping, from the sound of it—but paid them no mind. The Rohirrim had been sent away before the feast, to tend to business near the southern border of Rohan, and they must be returning soon.

Opening her eyes again, she smiled at her surroundings. Simbelmyne whickered behind her, nudging her hand with a soft nose. Eowyn turned to tend to the gelding when she realized the hoofbeats were getting louder.

_They should not be near me, but closer to Edoras. Unless…_

She could see a small spot to the left of the glowing hall on the horizon, growing larger as the rider drew closer. Anger flared within her as she realized it must be someone coming to fetch her, someone desiring the company of the lady at dinner. _Stupid…proprietary…customs_, she thought fiercely, each word punctuating a movement as she leaped back onto Simbelmyne and jammed her boots into each stirrup. She pressed the horse into a canter, then a gallop, far to the right towards the Snowbourne and away from the Great West Road.

The rider was even further to her left now, but changing course as he saw her moving away. She spurred Simbelmyne, whispering words of encouragement, hoping they could outrun their pursuer. The grasslands whirred past as the grey horse's hooves bit at the ground, Eowyn low on his neck.

They reached the banks of the Snowbourne too quickly. The river was rushing high thanks to the morning's rainstorm, and there was no way they could cross it. The gelding was lathered from his exertion, and paced nervously on the banks of the swollen river as Eowyn tried to discern the location of her pursuer through the twilight. The foreign hoofbeats pounded in her ears with her heartbeat, but now it was dark enough that she could not see where the rider was.

Then, a dark shape caught her eye. As it came closer and closer, she could see it was a cloaked and hooded rider on a dark horse, but no familiar details were visible. She began to feel a trickle of fear start at the base of her spine. _What if this is not someone from Edoras, come to retrieve her?_

She reined Simbelmyne tightly, the gelding whinnying nervously and arching his neck as she put more pressure on the bridle. He felt her nerves.

The dark rider dismounted a dozen feet away, dropping the reins of his horse, before slowly approaching her.

He had a slow swaggering gait, one that was achingly familiar—but why on earth—

The man removed his hood with one hand while keeping the other firmly on the hilt of his broadsword. She still felt uneasy, but less so now that she could tell he was a man and not some masterless rider from the East.

The darkness kept his features from her.

From atop Simbelmyne, she said softly, "Who are you, rider? And why do you pursue me?"

The rider let out a short bark of laughter. "Am I so unrecognizable, Eowyn, niece of Theoden?"

At the sound of his voice, Eowyn almost fell from her saddle. Her first impression had been correct—but the mere presence of the ranger did not answer any of her questions as to _why _he was here.

Aragorn put a hand on her leg, while reaching to fondle Simbelmyne's mane affectionately. "I saw you from a distance, and thought perhaps you were your brother. Why are you so far from home, my lady?"

Still slightly shocked by his sudden appearance, Eowyn was unsure how to answer at first. The honest truth was something the man would probably laugh at. Instead, she chose to shrug and say, "Twilight is my favorite time to ride."

He looked up at her from cool blue eyes. "Are you not worried about the dangers of riding in the darkness, alone, with nothing but your skirts to protect you?"

In answer, she reached down to her boot and pulled forth a short throwing-knife. "There's another, on the other side," she said softly.

He laughed, a deep sound that made her stomach twist with desire. "I should have known. _Never_ left without protection."

He grasped Simbelmyne's bridle and said, "Well, my lady, I am guessing Edoras is not where you want to be right now, or you would be there. Shall we sit, then? I have a blanket in my pack."

Eowyn almost laughed, before catching herself. The thought of sitting quietly with this complete enigma of a ranger, here on the banks of the Snowbourne, under the starry sky, with their horses grazing contentedly next to them, was almost too picturesque to consider.

Seeing that he had already gone to remove the blanket from his saddlebags, though, she dismounted from the horse. _What harm comes from being friendly, after all? Better than Edoras. _She prayed her thudding heart would not betray her true feelings.


End file.
